Summer is here...
and it's hot
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When I was a kid, I knew what to do in summers. Play and read and take care of my sister. I don't remember the heat bothering me in the least. And I grew up in rural Missouri where the summers are hot and humid. I remember putting on my bathing suit and going out into the rain on those rare days when it rained without storming. I don't remember much about summer before my dad died when I was seven. After that, it was me and my sister alone during summer days because Mom worked.
The year I was eight and Alberta was two, we lived on Route 66 with one close neighbor. They had older boys aged thirteen and sixteen, and a girl six and a boy three. The younger ones were our playmates. The older boys were a nuisance. But mostly Alberta and I were alone. We had a swing set, and a washtub filled with water.
The next year we got some more neighbors, on the other side of us. They built a junkyard and filled it with wrecked cars. Their kids were a girl and boy young enough to also be playmates. All the kids would play in and around the junked cars, looking for coins, sometimes getting cut on the broken glass. No serious injuries happened that I know of.
When I was eleven and Alberta was five, we moved to a small town. Now we had a large wooded hill behind us, and neighborhood kids on both sides and across the street. We had another swing set, a picnic table, and a plastic wading pool. We also had a creek with crawdads.
Our new stepfather built a treehouse the year I was twelve. It was really high up in the sycamore tree. A platform really, but I loved it. I spent a lot of time up there reading in the early mornings before everyone else was awake.
We went to town school. There was a (tiny) public library. There was a river with a swimming hole.
We filled our time by playing and reading.
All my adult life I worked, with two weeks off at some point in the year. Summers weren't very different from any other season. More daylight, and insufferable heat, but not much playing, or time for reading.
I'm a big reader still. As an adult I started reading mostly at bedtime. And my playing has been different things at different times, with theatre being a major way to play.
When I retired, I didn't return to my childhood ways, I continued adulting. Always busy at one thing or another. In my early forties I started writing every morning. I continued that practice until last year, when I was eighty years old. Now I write whenever I feel like it, but not daily.
So here I am. Summer is well and truly here. And I find myself with leisure time. I hardly know what to do with myself. I do my daily chores, read all the substacks I subscribe to, spend time on Facebook, and then what? It's too hot to garden now except in early morning, and at night after the sun goes down. And I certainly can't bake. I have the air conditioning shut off in my sewing room to conserve energy.
This weekend I went to the Oregon Potters Association sale, and the Powell's Book Store Warehouse Sale. Both events allowed me to get some extra steps in without noticing how hot I was. I ordered something from my potter friend at that sale, and bought a few books at the warehouse sale. Both events allowed me to enjoy time with friends or family, and to socialize. All of these activities help me find joy in my life, especially during this challenging time (for all of us, not just me).
And while I was out I suddenly remembered I planned to draw this summer. Time to get out the sketchbooks and pencils!
Here’s a picture I drew in 1963. Imagine if I’d kept it up. I might be able to draw pretty well by now. I wrote instead. (Both require a TON of practice.)
What are you doing? How are you spending your summer?
Love hearing about your childhood Sandra! I remember what you have told us of your kind father and am only glad that you had your early years with him. I think he had a big influence on what has shaped you to this day. I can relate to being an only child until 6 years old when my sister came along and later another sister and brother. One big difference for me, was that mom did not work while raising us kids. Though she had worked from the time she finished high school until she had me a few years after she and dad married. And she returned to working as we kids started off on our lives. My folks were a handsome couple! Though I never thought about such things at the time. They were just Mommy and Daddy. (Which I laugh to think, I still called them even in my high school years!) No TV until I was in my mid teens, though I did go to the neighbors every Sunday evening to watch The Wonderful World of Disney! There was a radio going in the kitchen almost all of the times. Paul Harvey, local news and mostly country music along with the smell of a little cheap coffee pot brewing up MJB coffee all day long!! Mom drank more coffee that anyone I have ever known. She had an even temper and quietly up-beat spirit. Dad listen to sports on a little radio in the living room. Mostly baseball, basketball which I listened to with interest. Dad was a quiet sports enthusiast, But he knew all the teams, managers and stadiums. I can still hear Pee Wee Reese and Dizzy Dean having fun, as they did play-by-play! Dad knew all the details of Pee Wee Reese's career, as well as most other sports figures of the day. Dad told me when he was a kid in Baton Rouge, they didn't have a radio, but that was no problem because everyone who did, had 'the games' going loud enough that anyone walking by could hear it. Love that image!
Somehow at 78, I don't feel as if I'd gotten to the leisure stage. Maybe two more years? Too many little protests, too many medical appointments, too much ... And, of course, here in the Bay, summer is cold. :-)